Wasn't it good
by Jaye Reid
Summary: "…and in all of our tomorrows, we'll have yesterday…" (Arena/Field/Parde - 'Wasn't it good')


Title: Wasn't it good.

By Jaye Reid.

Written: 18.11.2000

Rating: PG

Spoilers: no direct ones I can think of.

Category: V, Shipper.

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Don't have money, not worth suing!

Summary: "...and in all of our tomorrows, we'll have yesterday..." (Arena/Field/Parde - 'Wasn't it good')

Authors notes: Listening to my Tina Arena 'Don't Ask' CD today, and I always thought this song would inspire a fic. The song and the fic carry the same title. Song was written by Arena/Field/Parde.

Bridget, thanks for your insightful comments on this one... I think! g

~*~*~*~

I walk slowly and steadily.

The path I take is one I know well now.

Three rows along from the drive, one... two... three... four... fifth plot. The flowers I brought last time have long since withered and died. Someone has removed them. I've brought fresh ones.

I don't come here often. Not as often as I know other widows would perhaps visit their departed love ones. But he is not here.

Not his spirit.

He is with me everyday. Everywhere I am. I feel him beside me and I know he will keep me safe until it is time for me to join him. He wont let me leave this world until it is truly my time.

I sit down on the grass, leaning across and placing the flowers in the holder. I run my fingers across his name and smile. My one and only true love.

"Grandma Sarah?"

I smile up at my adoring grandson, who breaks me from the spell I am under. He likes to come with me when I visit. His face breaks into the smile that melts hearts. He has his fathers eyes... and his grandfathers.

I understand why the women he works with swoon.

I shake my head and chuckle. When I met his current 'friend' she had joked with him about 'dress whites and gold wings being over-rated'. He had given me a knowing grin and said the statement should have been patented. He could have made a fortune!

"Are you okay Grandma?" he asks.

He towers over me. His young eyes looking down into my old tired ones. It *is* getting harder to keep going. Not much longer my love, I think to myself.

"Could you get me some water from the tap for the flowers?" I inquire.

He nods and walks back towards the car to fetch a container.

I watch him go. He's always been such a sweet boy. I worry about him, but he is strong and intelligent. I know he will be fine when I am gone. But it is a grandmothers prerogative to worry. I learnt that a very long time ago.

Again I run my fingers across the letters carved in stone. "How much longer before we will be together again?" I ask softly.

Really, I'm surprised I have made it through so many years since he left me. I thought I would die from a broken heart the day he died.

"Here you are Grandma."

He's back with the water. I have been lost in my thoughts again.

"Thank you," I say with a smile.

He is giving me that worried look again.

"I might be old, but I'm not dead *just* yet. I want great grandchildren to spoil first," I state firmly. But I have this feeling time is not going to be on my side. Not that I will ever tell him that.

"Grandma..."

"Don't *Grandma* me... I know how it works, I know all too well..."

"Then you should understand," he replied.

Yes I understand. And he knows just how much I *do* understand.

But I tell him. "All I understand is that you shouldn't waste what time you have. Trust me on this one, please."

He sits down beside me. "I know," he says thoughtfully.

"Do you love her?" I ask. I've always been one to come straight to the point.

He smiles. "Yes, I'm pretty sure I do."

Good I think to myself, one down...

"And what about her? Does she love you?" I continue. This whole charade has to end. And soon. I don't care if I am accused of meddling. I don't want to think about where I would be if it wasn't for meddling from friends and family.

"Not that I have ever asked her... but yeah, I think she does."

"Okay then," I smile. The poor boy, I can see he is torn between his head and his heart. "Tell her... tell her before it's too late."

"But Grandma Sarah... Kim, she's my RIO, if I do this... it will change everything."

"Samuel... don't leave it until it's too late." I put my hand on one of his broad shoulders. "If your Grandpa Harm was still here, he would whip your six for being as damn obstinate as he and I were!"

Samuel smiles. "He would have me up on charges!"

"Yes he would," I laugh. "And I don't know if even *I* would have defended you! Now, come on, time to take me home."

"Do you need a hand?" he asks as I struggle to my feet.

"No I don't," I return abruptly, waving his outstretched hand away.

"Stubborn marines," He mutters. He heard his grandfather say it to me many times over the years. I pretend not to hear.

"Damn flyboys who think they can save the world," I mutter back - just loud enough.

He gives me that smile.

His grandfathers smile.

The end


End file.
